A Bitter Affair
by Depressed Dalek
Summary: Spock and McCoy are being hunted on an alien planet. Together, they must go into hiding and fight their natures and their feelings in order to escape. But will both of them make it off the surface? Slash, multiparter. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

_Alright, I found Star Trek on today and was immediately scanning for Spock/McCoy. I love this pairing! So here goes my second story. I hope you enjoy A Bitter Affair._

"Wake up, Doctor." McCoy sat up abruptly, reaching for the phaser he kept by his side at all times. It wasn't there. His thrashings during his sleep had knocked it dangerously close to their campfire.

His eyes follow the long, slender fingers that pick up the weapon and hand it to him, hilt first.

"My watch already, Spock?" His voice is deep and husky with sleep.

Spock tilts his head to the side thoughtfully.

"As I have mentioned on previous occasions, I do not require sleep every night to function."

"Course not. Did you want to meditate?"

"It would be prudent for us to continue moving," Spock said, gazing up at the dual suns. This planet's daily cycles varied greatly from Earth's and Vulcan's. Two suns meant there was only four hours of total darkness. Moving at any other time could prove to be deadly for the two men.

McCoy stood and kicked dirt onto the last dying embers of their fire. Even during the day, the temperature could drop to 20 below zero - annoying to McCoy, but nearly unbearable for Spock.

In a few minutes, they had packed their meager belongings - one medical tricorder, a single phaser, a blade called Kor'tal from a local village and two stolen pouches containing rations and medical supplies.

"So we begin Day 37," McCoy said with obvious sarcasm. "Maybe we will be so lucky as to not get shot at today. That would be a welcome change." He begins walking and Spock follows.

Spock doesn't point out that it is Night 37 or that they have gone exactly 1.6 days without encountering either the Order or the Bringers. He lost the heart to fight with McCoy on Day 26.

They hike in silence for a few minutes before McCoy speaks. His tone of voice tells Spock that his mood has not improved.

"How far did you say it was to this river?"

"About two kilometers." Spock, with his desert blood, has the innate ability to smell water. Once there, they would finally have a chance to wash and rest.

"Can't wait. I feel disgusting."

Spock has now caught up to the other man and looks him over with a skeptical eye. McCoy's skin and hair are thick with dirt. Neither man had shaved in day and their clothes had certainly seen better times. However, as disgusting as they got, keeping the black earth on them offered far better camouflage than their bright blue tops did.

"I suppose I do not look much better," Spock said, casting an inviting look at McCoy. Days ago, McCoy would have risen to the bait, but it seemed like a lifetime had passed.

37 days. The number echoed in Spock's mind as they trekked in silence. Thirty seven days since they had been captured. Thirty five since they had escaped. Fourteen since the injury. Eleven since they had lost hope.

Somewhere in that span of time, they had lost something else. Spock just didn't yet know what it was.

McCoy froze suddenly and Spock lurched to a halt at his side.

"Is something wrong, Doctor?" He said quietly, knowing that if McCoy had stopped, there must be a good reason.

"There. Hear that?" Spock listened carefully and nodded. A faint, but distinct hum was coming from between the trees through which they had been about to pass.

Stooping, McCoy picked up a rock and hurled it in the direction of the noise. A static charge disintegrated the stone in apparent mid-air.

"A force field. Very astute observation, Doctor," Spock remarked sincerely. McCoy just rolled his eyes and readjusted his medical pack.

"Right by the river too. Bastards."

Spock didn't know if he was referring to the Order or the Bringers, but it didn't matter. They would have to wait a bit longer for water.

"Let's keep moving. Maybe there's a breach somewhere."

Spock nodded and they maneuvered away from the force field and into safer space.

Two hours later, it was Spock who found a hole in the force field big enough for a man to fit through. At this point, the second sun was on its way up, so they marked the spot with a few carefully placed twigs and settled down to camp.

Spock began counting to himself in anticipation of what would come.

First, McCoy turned on one side, then the other. Finally he sat up and hit his hand on his knee in disgust. "I hate this."

"I know."

"Two hours, maybe three. That's all the time we get to move."

"I know." His dark eyes study McCoy's pale face. "At least you are getting time to heal," he begins cautiously.

"Time?" He barked. "All we have is time! I'd like to trade some of this goddamned time for a starship."

Their typical bickering finished, Spock leaned back against a tree. McCoy threw himself on one side, screwing his eyes shut and willing himself to sleep.

_Alright, here begins another one. I think it's going to be longer than Beyond Noesis. I have three chapters written so far and no idea how it will end. Anyway, thanks for reading and you know I love reviews!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

"Wake up, Doctor." Blue eyes opened, but McCoy didn't move.

"You are...a terrible alarm clock."

Spock would have rolled his eyes if he could. Each day offered little change in their routine and it was starting to wear on McCoy.

"Oh I am sorry Doctor," he said, allowing the faintest thread of irritation slip into his voice. "Would you prefer to wake up to birds singing?"

"Are you trying to be funny?" McCoy demanded.

"Never."

Ten minutes brought them to the hole in the force field. After cautiously establishing the boundaries, Spock waved McCoy forward. Slowly, his body tense, McCoy belly-crawled his way through the hole safely. Spock knelt on the ground when a bright red volley of weapons fire hit the field, forcing it to shimmer and close the hole.

Spock turned to see soldiers wearing the black uniforms of the Order running towards him. Swiftly, he dove behind a tree, glancing at McCoy as he rose.

"Run, Doctor. I will find you."

Eyes wide with panic, McCoy took off running down the hill that led towards the river. Spock listened until he could no longer hear his footsteps crunching on the leaf-covered ground before turning his attention back towards the Order.

McCoy had the phaser. That left him with the Kor'tal, useful only in hand to hand combat.

"Surrender, Bringer scum! We won't hurt you." The raucous, bloodthirsty laughter brought the taste of bile to Spock's mouth.

Bending down, he picked up a seed pod that had fallen from one of the many trees and hurled it as far away from himself as he could. The soldiers caught the noise and followed it.

Not one to waste time, Spock shouldered the Kor'tal and jumped. After a few tries, he had perfected the art of scrabbling up the trees here. It was a skill proving to be most useful.

Higher and higher he climbed, until he was shielded by the thick boughs of seed pods and branches.

Faintly he smiled, amused at the image of himself beaning the unsuspecting soldiers with the pods. An hour later, Spock finally deemed it safe to move. He opened the pouch that hung around his waist and plucked a few of the almost-ripe pods from the branch nearest him. While his constitution was very intolerant of the nuts, McCoy had taken a liking to roasting them over their nightly campfires.

Finally the pouch was bulging and Spock began to make his way down the tree. Almost two hours of night wasted. He shook his head at the loss and set off to find another breach in the force field and with it, Doctor McCoy.

_All together now, let's laugh at the fact that Spock is giving McCoy nuts. Snerk._


	3. Chapter 3

_Traycon and Fishey, this is going to be a sad story. Consider yourself warned :) It's going to be long too. I keep coming up with new stuff to add._

_Chapter Three_

"Wake up, Doctor."

"I wasn't asleep, you pixie. I was playing dead."

"Indeed. Doctor, you are bleeding." Spock did his best to remain impassive, but he yearned to get McCoy proper help, proper care. McCoy cursed and opened his medical pack for some fresh bandages.

"All that running must have opened it up again."

Spock turned his back in order to give McCoy some semblance of privacy.

"How did you escape?" McCoy said as he took off his pants and examined the blood-soaked bandages.

"I climbed a tree. Also, I brought some of the pods you enjoy."

"Thanks...hey Spock, I think I...need a little help here."

Slowly Spock turned, resolutely keeping his eyes on the embarrassed man's face.

"I'm trying to keep the sterile pad on and I can't re-wrap it with one hand," he muttered.

Silently, Spock approached, kneeling in front of McCoy. Though his medical training was limited, his wrapping was adequate. He remained kneeling while McCoy practically jumped back into his own pants, blushing furiously. Clearly the nature of their unique position had not been lost on him either.

They ventured into deeper forest covering, closer to the river and made their camp. Spock opened his own ration pack while McCoy built the fire. Eventually Spock handed the pack full of pods over to him. McCoy wordlessly accepted, not quite meeting his eyes.

An extremely awkward silence ensued.

"So...how did you find me so fast?" McCoy said, clearing his throat and skewering the soft end of a pod onto a sharp stick.

"May I remind you, Doctor, that my connection to your mind is stronger as a result of our melds."

McCoy skewered another pod and Spock ventured into humor.

"Also, I assume that even without the link, you would have eventually been complaining enough for me to find you."

There was no change in McCoy's face, disappointment in Spock's. He needed McCoy's humanity, his grit. That spark of passion in McCoy gave Spock an illogical hope that they could work their way out of any situation.

Now, Spock studied the sallow man in front of him. His shoulders sagged and while he was uncharacteristically quiet about his wound, Spock could almost taste the pain that rolled off of him.

McCoy held up the stick full of pods with a weak grin. "Hey. Shish-ka-bobs."

Spock allowed himself a small smile of encouragement. McCoy's mood seemed to have improved slightly.

"So this...thread is how you found me after my injury?" McCoy queried, putting the stick over the licking flames and rolling it between his palms.

"Essentially correct, though the connection between our minds was stronger because you were in pain." If Spock closed his eyes, he could still see the fear in his friend's blue eyes, the arrow shaft from a Bringer weapon protruding from the right thigh. He remembered how light McCoy had felt, how tightly he had gripped Spock's shirt as Spock ran all the way to a cave for safety. He remembered how he had melded with McCoy to keep him conscious while he operated on himself...

"Damn," McCoy said softly as the top pod caught fire. Pulling it out, he blew on it until it was just a smoking bit of charcoal. The scent burrowed into Spock's mind, ready to be filed under 'things he never wanted to experience again,'

"Damn," McCoy said again, but it didn't sound like him. There was no anger, no passion. That very spark that Spock so admired seemed to have been smothered under the weight of their trials.

"Spock, is there a way to make the link stronger? So that if something happened to you, I could find you?" McCoy said as he cracked open a smoking pod and blew gently on the contents to cool them.

Spock chewed his own rations thoughtfully. "It is unlikely. Even a full bonding would be wak for someone who is psy-blind."

"But it's possible."

"What exactly are you proposing, Doctor?" Spock's curiosity was aroused.

McCoy snorted at his word choice. "Well think about it, Spock. For a psy-blind human, we have a pretty strong connection, no?"

Spock nodded hesitantly.

"So then it stands to reason that I would probably be more receptive to a full meld."

"Doctor. Am I to assume you wish to bond completely with me?" Spock said, barely able to repress the curiosity he felt concerning McCoy's reasons.

"I'm speaking logically here, Spock," McCoy said with the air of someone with ruffled feathers.

"For everything, there is indeed a first time," Spock chided and was rewarded with a much-missed gleam in those blue eyes.

"Quiet you. It would be for the sole purpose of communication."

"I admit it would be fascinating to try to add logic to your emotional nature," Spock mused. McCoy grinned and leaned forward.

"However, I am concerned that you may not be able to handle the strain that comes with separation."

McCoy blinked in surprise and picked at the empty shell. "Your mother was bonded and didn't suffer any ill effects, did she?" he asked, opening another pod.

"Physically, no. However..." Spock hesitated, unsure of exactly how to phrase his sentiments. "When my father would leave, it was very difficult for my mother to cope with the decreased strength of the bond."

"The further away he was, the...what?"

"As far as she led me to understand, my mother believed that there as no greater pain than to be separated from my father. An effective bond is many-layered, Doctor. For it to be made, both minds must merge completely. There is no room for hesitation." He studied the other man for his reaction.

"Is that the warning label, Spock?"

Spock continued. "Also, a new bond is a fragile thing. In the semi-likely event of one of our deaths, the other mind may not survive in tact."

"Ever the optimist," McCoy groused, tossing the last of the pod shells away and pulling his arms behind his back.

"I am, in fact, a realist. May I also submit that your behavior the last few weeks has not been particularly encouraging?"

"I get that way when I'm scared, Spock. I distance myself. I run away." His eyes seemed darker now.

"This is why you want the bond. You fear being alone," Spock hazarded.

"I need something...to hold to, Spock, and you're the best damn thing I've got."

Spock watched firelight and emotions dance across McCoy's haggard face. Their eyes met and Spock was struck to the core by the bare need in his eyes, the longing for comfort. Not for the first time, Spock fervently wished that someone else were here, someone who could comfort McCoy...he felt he would do anything to make the pain in his eyes go away.

"I will meditate on your request, Doctor."

McCoy nodded and curled on his side. "Good night, Spock."

"Good night, Doctor."


	4. Chapter 4

_Here is chapter four!_

"Wake up, Doctor."

"Spock, the damned sun is still up," McCoy said, blinking his eyes into adjustment against the brightness.

"Yes Doctor, the 'damned sun' is still up. However I have decided to agree to your request," he said calmly.

"The meld." McCoy sat up quickly, fully awake. He climbed to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the river to bathe. I can't smell like this on what is essentially my wedding day."

Spock opened his mouth to reply, but could think of no response. While he waited for McCoy to return, Spock eyed the area surrounding him dispassionately. The land was hard and dry from too little rain. There had been times when he and McCoy had been forced to seek shelter from the dust storms that rolled like waves across an ocean. It was very much like Spock's own world, yet somehow, despite the dry conditions, trees still flourished.

His attention was drawn back to the sight of McCoy walking up the hill. Drops of water still clung to his chest and he carried his dirty shirt in one hand. The other was combing through his hair, shaking out the last touches of the river.

He plopped cross-legged onto the ground in front of Spock and grinned. "Well, let's get to it."

Spock grimaced internally. "While I realize this must be a foreign concept to you, Doctor, we must first attempt to calm and focus your mind in preparation for the meld."

"So what do I do?"

"Find an object on which to focus." Spock's own eyes closed. McCoy selected an odd-looking stick in the ground.

"Doctor?"

"Ssh, Spock. I'm contemplating."

"On what are you focusing?"

"A stick," he replied matter-of-factly.

"I can still feel your thoughts. Your mind is, at best, a sandstorm. At least attempt to give yourself focus." Spock observed the man for a moment before closing his eyes again.

McCoy made a face at Spock and scanned the area around him for a new object of focus. Feeling a bit like a student cheating on an exam, he whispered "Hey Spock, what are you contemplating?"

A small, almost undetectable sigh. "I am contemplating the nature of peace, Doctor."

"I'm not helping, am I?"

"No."

Finally, after much struggling, McCoy's eyes happened upon their old friends and he immediately slipped into focus.

Spock made no movement to betray him, but he felt the rush of McCoy's mind slow to the equivalent of a peaceful, lazy river. He could now enter his mind without danger of being lost.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw that McCoy had cocked his head to the side in contemplation, deeply engrossed in the study of his ears.

"Doctor?"

"Mmm?"

"I am ready to begin the meld."

McCoy dragged his attention to Spock's face.

Carefully, Spock placed McCoy's fingers over his katra points, then mirrored the action with his own movements. McCoy's fingertips on his forehead were mostly for ceremony since, being nearly psy-blind, he could do little to reciprocate the meld.

"My mind to your mind," Spock began, feeling the first hum of McCoy's thoughts enter his mind.

"My thoughts to your thoughts." Somehow the correct words found their way out of McCoy's mouth.

Spock braced himself for the onslaught of emotion and thought that was sure to come with a deeper meld, but McCoy's control was stronger than Spock gave him credit for. Entering his mind was much like slipping into a comfortably warm bath. Spock relaxed and felt McCoy further open his mind.

He sifted through his childhood, his Academy years, his doomed marriage and his days on the Enterprise. He admired the devotion McCoy had to his job, the care he put into each test, each patient. Finally Spock found himself and braced for feelings of resentment and annoyance. What he found surprised him.

Inside McCoy's oddly organized mind was an equivalent of a shrine to their friendship. He could sense the regret McCoy had for some of his wayward comments, could sense the fierce loyalty that clung to their ties.

Finally Spock came to a dark, shut-off corner of McCoy's mind. He mentally chided the Doctor and, with exceedingly irritating reluctance, McCoy allowed him into the darkness.

The weight of it hit him like a punch in the stomach. Here were all of McCoy's doubts, his fears. His fear that they would never get off the planet. The doubt that he was too weak to last much longer and the quiet, but ever-present murmur of a voice saying "Just step back, Leonard. Just give up. Rest. Sleep. All will be well if you sleep."

With more force than necessary, Spock shut away these feelings and finished his end of the meld. Now he coaxed McCoy's mind into his own and showed him his memories, his feelings. Finally when the final seeds of the bond had been sown, Spock spoke.

"Parted and never parted."

"Never and always touching and touched," came McCoy's shaky reply.

Their eyes opened at the same time as the bond broke.

"Spock," McCoy gasped, trembling with the intimacy of the newly-forged bond.

"Rest, Doctor," he said soothingly, troubled by his own disorganized thoughts. "Let your mind rest. I will be here."

McCoy nodded and fell asleep, the new bond that tied him to Spock keeping him safe at least for this night.

_Now that I'm moved into my dorm, there will be much more fanfic writing! As always, I love reviews. Thanks for reading._


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter Five_

"Wake up, Doctor."

McCoy awoke and found himself being dragged to his feet.

"What is it?" he said, instantly awake as he felt Spock's worry.

"Bringers."

McCoy blinked in confusion. He had heard Spock's voice, but his mouth hadn't moved.

"Do not speak. Run. I will divert the guards." Roughly, Spock pushed both packs and weapons into McCoy's arms and sent him down the hill towards the river with a single shove.

McCoy began running, his limbs moving as if of their own accord. He had enough control over himself to turn his head to see Spock scaling a tree like some great cat about to pounce. Then he was out of sight. Even the meld seemed quiet.

McCoy ran on.

SMSMSM

Spock was feeling slightly guilty about forcing McCoy's mind into submission, but he hadn't had a choice. Left to his own devices, McCoy would most certainly have acted impulsively and attacked the guards.

Spock frowned. Wasn't that what he was doing?

No. He was being logical. He was ambushing the guards.

Unless this new-found impulsive nature was a result of the meld...

"Damn," Spock said seriously.

SMSMSM

R'Helk nervously adjusted his grip on his energy weapon and glanced into the growing dusk. Nighttime always made him uneasy, but his present fear stemmed from the report that two of the Order had been seen in this location. If he captured them, the information that resulted from their torture might be enough to earn him a promotion to Overseer! He licked his lips as he imagined the benefits the job would entail...beautiful women eager to please him, hero worship and a name that would deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as the leaders of their rebellion.

His thoughts were cut short by the sound of something landing behind him. He turned quickly to see a creature that resembled Ishakra, the night demon of children's tales.

He screamed. "Ishakra!" He said, dropping his weapon and making signs of protection. "Please! Do not eat me!"

The night demon only raised an eyebrow and murmured an unknown term, some curse, R'Helk thought. It touched his shoulder and suddenly his world was dark.

"Fascinating," Spock said again as he let the alien man drop to the ground. He stooped to pick up the weapon and found himself surrounded by Bringers.

Spock's eyebrow climbed upward and without meaning to, he drew a line from the doctor's book.

"Behold, I am the demon Ishakra. Leave now and I...will not eat you," he rumbled, as menacing as the bounds of Vulcan logic would allow.

Their leader was clearly unimpressed. "What would Ishakra need with a weapon?"

Spock managed a sneer. "I am merely laughing at your puny weapons. Ha. Ha ha." He glowered at the man, who did not quite meet his eyes.

"I think this is an Order trick. He's one of them. Just look at those ears!"

"This is...the way I am presenting myself now. Am I not terrible?" Spock momentarily considered gnashing his teeth, but decided against it. Far too unseemly.

"Take him," the leader said.

"Damn," Spock thought again as the butt of a weapon collided with the back of his head.

His last thought before slipping into unconsciousness was of Leonard McCoy...

SMSMSM

A sudden end in the command to run brought McCoy's legs to a complete stop. With a loud curse, he fell to the ground and rolled, finally coming to a rest in a bed of reeds. He lay there, panting and bleeding until he could sit up and examine himself. The increased throbbing in his thigh told him that his wound had reopened. However, the most unsettling feeling came from his left shoulder. He must have dislocated it in the fall.

Wincing, he pulled himself to his feet. The medical pack was tangled around his waist, but Spock's pack was further up the hill. He had the phaser and the three-pronged blade was embedded deep in the earth where his head had rested. Gingerly, he touched a long scrape on the side of his face and came away with blood.

McCoy hobbled up the hill towards a tree. He probed the swelling skin around his shoulder with practiced hands. Only then did he realize he was missing his shirt. He cursed again and moved to lean against the tree. Finding the socket, he pushed hard and heard the sticky pop that accompanies a bone being put back into place.

As a doctor, McCoy was used to the noise - that he had hard it at all meant a clean fix - but to hear it from his own body made his stomach turn.

He tended to his other small cuts and re-bandaged his leg clumsily with one hand. He still needed to stabilize his arm.

He walked back into the reeds and pulled the blade free from the ground. Holding it awkwardly in one hand, he hacked at a few of the soft reeds until they fell. Using his free hand and teeth, he tied them together, end-to-end, until they formed a continuous chain about ten feet long. Doubling it took some spectacular effort, but McCoy was eventually able to make a place in the widest part of the reeds for his arm to rest. A quick pull sent a spasm of pain up it, but once it was secure, he could feel some of the tension escaping him.

It was completely dark, but only now was McCoy beginning to notice how cold he was. He gathered his things and headed back up the hill to try and find a place to hide. Twenty minutes of walking brought him t a tree so heavy and old that it had bent under its own weight and was now caressing the with its flowers.

McCoy wove his way in, mindful of disturbing any wildlife, and sat near the massive trunk. Struggling to make his raging mind calm, he tried to reach out to the other being in his mind.

"Spock?"

There was no answer. Leonard continued calling until he felt like a kitten mewling for its mother. Exhausted, he closed his eyes.

"Spock, where are you?"

_I love to hear from you guys! Thanks for reading!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter Six_

"Wake up, Doctor."

McCoy turned his head slightly, ready to hear Spock's voice telling him to get on his feet and move.

But the bond was quiet and Spock had not come looking for him. McCoy could safely assume that he had been captured by the Bringers.

A bolt of fear. McCoy was in no condition to stage a break-in. Until he was healed, he could do nothing to rescue Spock. He stood to stretch his one good arm and froze. Gazing at him with deep violet, unblinking eyes was a child. She spoke, but the universal translator couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"I'm sorry, but I can't understand you," McCoy said, bracing himself to run if she screamed.

"I said, are you a demon?" She lifted one slightly webbed hand to brush red hair out of her face.

"No, I'm not a demon," McCoy said, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Though some might beg to differ," he muttered darkly.

"Are you an Order?" He shook his head.

"Are you a Bringer?" Another shake.

"Then would you to meet my brother? He's a healer," she said, baring her teeth at him. McCoy started until he realized she was imitating his own gesture.

"Sure. I'd like that," McCoy said, hoping he wasn't walking right into a trap.

She skipped ahead and McCoy followed.

MSMSMS

The blow was sharp against Spock's face, but he betrayed nothing.

"Order...when is the next raid?"

"As I said before, I am not a member of the Order. It is therefore illogical to persist in asking me questions I cannot answer," Spock replied calmly, closing his left eye to keep the trickle of blood out of it.

Another blow. "Don't lie. We saw you with the Order. You and your brothers. You are plotting against us!"

"My crewmates were attempting to negotiate safe passage through this sector. We paused in orbit here to make repairs while we searched for supplies. Our meting with the Order was unplanned and unproductive."

"That's what you would have me believe," his interrogator spat bitterly.

"I was captured by the Order." Spock was growing frustrated.

"And what did they tell you about us?"

Spock narrowed his one good eye in the man's direction.

"They said you were rebels going against the established order. You have been staging terrorist attacks on innocents and-"

The interrogator slammed his club against the wall. "We are not terrorists! We are trying to show the people that the Order is repressing their ideals, their thoughts. I wouldn't expect you to understand." He left, leaving Spock the freedom to fall limp under the pain.

He struggled to keep his pain to himself by keeping the bond silent, though he desperately wanted to contact Leonard and tell him he was alive.

Closing his eyes, he slumped farther into his chair, biting back moans of pain.

SMSMSM

McCoy laughed heartily as he rotated his arm. "Feels great!"

Theylor, the healer, smiled at him. At least, McCoy took the gesture as a smile.

"I am pleased Axsk found you. It has been so long since we had visitors." He pulled his medical scanner back and allowed McCoy to stand and examine himself. The wound in his leg was sealed and clean. All of this cuts and tears were gone. In fact, he had never felt better.

McCoy longed to sit and study the tools Theylor used, but he was feeling guilty for the indulgence. The siblings had already housed and fed him for a night. All the while, Spock was...somewhere. Despite his best tries, McCoy could not penetrate the black shroud that kept him from Spock's mind. It worried him.

"Theylor, you know I value what you have done for me. But...I have to rescue Spock."

Theylor lifted one webbed hand to gesture Axsk over with food. "This Spock, he is your friend?"

"Well...yes. We bicker, but we're friends."

"You seem quite worried about him."

McCoy bristled defensively. "Well, why shouldn't I be? He's my t'hy'la!"

Theylor looked displeased. "Your t'hy'la?" He struggled with the pronunciation and McCoy marveled that his own Southern accent had accurately framed the word.

"He's my bondmate. He..." McCoy stopped talking, at a loss to describe the bond to an outsider.

"He frustrates the hell out of me. He can never admit when he's wrong and there are times when I could just kill him. Like now, for example. Getting captured by the Bringers is the dumbest, most illogical thing he could have done." McCoy stood and began pacing. Theylor watched him move, noting his word choice and wild gestures with interest.

"You are mates, then," he said sadly.

He had never seen anyone go as still as McCoy did in that moment.

"Why do you say that?" McCoy said suspiciously.

"You're a very interesting man, McCoy." He moved closer to him and McCoy backed away.

"Theylor, I think I see where this is going. I'm afraid I'm not..."

"Gay?"

McCoy spoke quietly. "Available."

They were still for a moment.

"Then let us rescue your t'hy'la."

_And that's the end of chapter six!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter Seven_

"Wake up, Doctor." Spock opened his eyes, repressing any hope of seeing Dr. McCoy's sleeping face. All he could see was the floor of his cell, dimly lit by ancient lights. A week ago, his idea of paradise had been finding a way back to the Enterprise.

Now, his idea of happiness was waking up and watching Leonard sleep. He wanted to enjoy the sounds of the land settling down to rest during the short night. He wondered-

Spock raised his head. He wondered why the lights had gone out. Struggling to stand, he braced himself against the wall and listened for guards. None came.

His acute hearing caught a tapping on one side of the cell. He stepped back and pressed himself into a corner. A moment passed and the wall buckled inward, their movement encouraged by an energy discharge. As the stones settled and the dust cleared away, Spock felt as if a string inside of him was being plucked at its perfect pitch. Leonard was here.

"T'hy'la," he gasped, dropping the walls he had been using to keep Leonard's mind safe. He rushed forward mentally to brush against his mate's mind, to snuggle safely within a haven of emotion and gruffness.

McCoy blocked the bond with one swift move. Spock staggered forward, weak in every sense of the word. Blinking in the bright sunlight, he felt a hand grab his arm and half-push and half-drag him into the forest.

Once they were safely sheltered by the trees from enemy fire, Spock felt it was appropriate to faint.

He was aware of a hearty curse from McCoy before the world swam away from him.

SMSMSM

He awoke to the sting of a cold rag across his forehead and struggled to sit up. A surprisingly strong arm held him down. Spock glanced up into violet eyes hovering over him.

"Leonard," he gasped like a drowning man.

"Leonard is not here. I am Theylor and you need rest." The alien moved to inject a sedative into Spock's arm, but he resisted.

"I must see him. I must see my t'hy'la." Spock's mind floundered. Lack of contact with a bond could shatter emotional control and Spock's was in tatters.

Theylor sighed. "I suppose you are healed enough to move, though I don't advise any intense physical activity."

Spock stood and followed the ghost of the bond outside.

He found Leonard McCoy leaning against a tree, arms folded across his chest, the very picture of tension.

Spock did his best to compose himself and approached.

"Doctor," he said formally, though inside he was aching to fall against the smaller man and beg to be comforted.

"You're a damned fool, Spock," McCoy said, his voice sharp with resentment. Somehow, the human had found it within his mental capacity to dampen his end of the bond, leaving Spock's own mind uncomfortably quiet.

"Leonard." His voice was anguished.

McCoy pushed off the tree and walked towards Spock. "You were stupid, Spock. You were illogical," he jabbed his finger into Spock's chest and Spock began to detect the faint stirring of anger behind McCoy's emotional shroud.

"You let yourself get captured for what? There was nothing to be gained-"

"There was everything to be gained! I had to protect you. If you were captured..." Spock's voice was rising quickly and even McCoy couldn't deny the edge of frenzy in it.

"If I were captured? Spock, you made me run away from you. Do you have any idea how much you hurt me by doing that? Had you died, I would have no reason to get out of here. So don't you dare call me t'hy'la, Spock. A true t'hy'la would not have asked me to make that kind of sacrifice."

Spock moved forward, his hand outstretched, to brush his fingers along McCoy's jaw, but he stepped back, blue eyes cold.

"Leonard...forgive me."

Spock's only answer was a snort from McCoy as he turned and disappeared into the darkness.

SMSMSM

The bed in which Spock lay as far too overstuffed for his tastes. He tossed and turned to no avail in an attempt to get comfortable. He had meditated for three hours to get the coldness of McCoy's blue eyes out of his mind, but still sleep eluded him.

Perhaps McCoy was correct. Had his actions been rash? Had he been foolish?

No! He trusted his ability to repress pain and endure torture. If McCoy had been tortured, Spock doubted that he would have been able to withstand such-

Oh, who was he kidding? McCoy was strong; he had proven that on a number of occasions. The only reason Spock allowed himself to be captured was to sustain some strange hope that McCoy could make it safely off the planet without him.

The sound of McCoy's voice bidding the siblings good night was enough to ensure that Spock would not be able to get any sleep. He listened intently to McCoy's footsteps as he made his way up the stairs.

They paused outside of Spock's closed door and Spock felt his heart leap in anticipation. But McCoy headed to his own room and Spock turned on his side, trying to keep his bitter disappointment from showing itself to his empty bedside.

An hour passed and Spock's eyes opened, ending his light doze. Slowly, he turned his head towards the window.

Leonard McCoy was framed in profile by the large, golden moon. His gaze was directed at the sky and his face seemed a mask of pain. His arms were wrapped tightly around his body as if to stave off the cold.

Spock slipped out of his bed and moved on silent feet towards the smaller man until he stood behind McCoy.

McCoy shivered slightly as he felt Spock's hot breath on the back of his neck. He tore his gaze away from the stars with difficulty.

"Spock?"

"Yes?"

"Why hasn't Jim come for us?"

Spock was silent.

"It's been almost two months. Two miserable months here. Why hasn't Jim rescued us? Why aren't we back at our posts?" McCoy's voice held no anger. This disturbed Spock. What circumstances could be so terrible as to wring the passion and the fire from this man, leaving only a disparaged, broken shell of a person?

"I cannot say, Doctor. It does seem odd that Jim has not found a way to rescue us. But...have the last two months really been entirely miserable?"

McCoy didn't reply and Spock could have hit himself for asking.

McCoy turned to face him and Spock was struck by the desolation that clouded his normally piercing blue eyes.

"Entirely miserable?" He echoed, slowly framing the words as if confused.

Spock had only a moment to observe a flash across the blue eyes before he was simultaneously caught by the feel of McCoy's lips crushing his own and by the flood of McCoy's thoughts and emotions as they rushed over him.

Fear. Anger. Disappointment. Sadness.

Need. Ah, what need Spock felt from McCoy. He could practically taste it.

A rough arm thrown behind his head brought Spock's attention back to the present moment.

The kiss was awkward and wet and their teeth hit several times before Spock turned his head to ease the strain on his neck. Unsure of where to place his hands, he settled for slipping them down McCoy's back. He was surprised to hear a purr of pleasure emanate from McCoy's throat.

Desperately, the human pulled Spock to him, pressing their bodies together without breaking the kiss. McCoy pulled back for breath and dragged his lips over Spock's heated neck, causing the Vulcan to gasp at the sensation he wrought.

They broke apart, leaving Spock panting. McCoy circled him slowly, trailing his hand over the cloth covering Spock's back. Spock bit back a moan, fervently wishing the cloth wasn't there.

McCoy drew close to him again and pushed him backwards onto the bed. Spock moved to protest until he covered Spock's body with his own. Their lips met again and Spock opened his mouth to admit Leonard's searching tongue. He moved his hand to the back of Leonard's head, enjoying the feel of his hair tickling his palm.

Leonard slipped his hand under Spock's shirt, pushing the material up until it was bunched under his arms. He ran his lips down Spock's chest, pausing to nip and suck at the tender skin of his stomach before reaching for Spock's straining erection. The mere brush of his fingers was enough to bring Spock's hips off of the bed.

"T'hy'la!" Spock said, reaching his hands up for the alien's equivalent of a headboard.

"Shh, Spock," McCoy said as he pushed the pants down to Spock's knees. A brief flash of eye contact sent a chill up both their spines as McCoy bent and licked the head of Spock's erection.

A gasp and McCoy continued licking until Spock was reduced to a shivering mass of sensation and need. Finally he pulled back and replaced his tongue with the tip of one finger. Their equally dark eyes, McCoy's stained with desire and Spock's shadowed by genetics, met as McCoy used the digit to circle the leaking, dark green head.

He wrapped nimble fingers around the pulsating shaft and slowly moved it up and down while he continued tracing with the tip of his finger.

Spock was in ecstacy and his emotional barriers were still weak enough from their separation that he could fully show the doctor how much he appreciated his efforts. Each touch brought a new syllable, a new gasp to his lips, but only one word seemed appropriate.

"Leonard. Leonard. Leonard." It started softly and increased in unison with Leonard's motions.

McCoy pressed his entire finger flat over the head and increased the speed of his circles. This motion earned him a quickly-suppressed shout of his name and he smiled slightly.

Slightly tightening his grip, McCoy began to pump Spock. This combined with the feeling of his rough palm over the head was enough to push Spock over the edge and with a long groan, his body tensed up and he came.

Spock lay still for a moment, shaking at the aftershocks of his climax dispersed throughout his body. He was vaguely aware of Leonard getting off the bed.

"Where are you going?" He managed, his trembling voice a poor attempt at seduction.

"I'm going to bed. Good night."

Spock watched him leave, heard the door click shut, but didn't quite believe him until the felt the damper going down on McCoy's end of the bond. Carefully, Spock cleaned and re-clothed himself, curling into the sheets and waiting for sleep to take him.

What they had done could be considered a human form of redemption and forgive him. Still, he wasn't sure why he almost felt worse now that he did when Leonard had been angry with him.

_Author's notes: Oh my! That's my first graphic scene, so I'd appreciate your feedback. Once I stop blushing, I'll get to work on chapter 8. Hope everyone enjoyed that! As always, reviews are appreciated._


	8. Chapter 8

_So sorry for the wait! I was jumped by plotbunnies for other fanfics and got a bit sidetracked._

_A Bitter Affair - Chapter Eight_

"Wake up, Doctor." The voice of his past slowly pulled him out of his dream.

Spock woke to the unmistakable sound of a table being set downstairs. A few seconds of alertness sent the memories of last night to the front of his mind. Another few seconds were needed to dress and make himself as presentable as he could.

He descended the stairs with as much dignity as he could muster. Today, he had a choice between unacknowledged mate or slighted lover. He chose the latter and wrapped cold indifference around him as he entered the dining room.

McCoy's eyes were on him in a flash, then away, finding something to study in a plate he was laying on the table. The bond was still quiet, an odd sensation after the fire of last night.

"Greeting, Spock. Did you sleep well? How do you feel?" Theylor was by his side in an instant.

"I am Vulcan. I feel nothing," he said, sending a meaningful look in McCoy's direction. "My physical condition, however, is acceptable."

Theylor nodded, pleased, and then gestured to a space at the table. "Leonard has informed me that you do not consume meat. I have prepared your meal accordingly."

A small part of Spock was pleased to hear that McCoy cared enough to mention this to Theylor. Quickly, he resumed his air of injured pride and set to eating.

"Theylor, you know we appreciate your hospitality, but we are still trying to find a way back to our ship," McCoy said, glancing briefly in Spock's direction.

"Where do you hope to go to find help? Both the Order and the Bringers are aware of your presence here. They will be unwilling to help."

"Logical," Spock commented. "What, instead, do you suggest?"

"There is another group of people like me, those who have chosen to remain neutral in the conflict between the two. While we are alone here, I can direct you to their nearest city and put you in contact with a friend of mine. He has sufficient means to contact your ship."

"Then we shall proceed immediately," Spock said, returning to his breakfast.

They sat in an awkward silence that was punctuated only by the sound of chewing and the occasional scrape of a plate. McCoy wasn't eager to be alone with Spock after last night, but the faster they got back on the ship, the faster he would be safe within the confines of Sickbay.

He felt his control starting to slip and gave himself a mental slap. Maintaining "radio silence" with Spock was a draining endeavor. Though his will was strong, he was fighting decades of mental discipline. Thankfully, Spock was not pressing his end of the bond. If he were, McCoy's mind would buckle in a second.

Three hours later, the first sun had set. Between the two of them, Spock and McCoy were carrying enough food to last them a month, though Theylor said it was about a week's walk to the city of Hesper. Spock had memorized their route and they were ready to set off.

Theylor pulled McCoy aside and spoke to him in a mock whisper. "You and your t'hy'la...you are Lerato again?"

McCoy frowned. "Lerato?" He noticed Spock was very still.

Theylor sighed. "As close as can be described, it is a term that means essence. We use it to describe the very core of a person.

McCoy was very confused. "Oh, like a soul. Are Spock and I souls again? That doesn't make sense."

Theylor smiled sadly. "When you are, you will know." With that, he turned and left them.

With no notice, Spock set off towards the hills. Moving without thought, McCoy followed him.

"I believe Theylor meant to ask if we were of the same soul again," Spock said after a lengthy silence.

"Oh," was all McCoy could think to say. "Are we?"

From the back, it was harder than usual to read Spock's emotions, but McCoy could feel through the bond that he was nettled.

"You should be the one asking that question, Doctor, since you are the one who initiated intimate contact," Spock said, his tone chilly.

"Is that what this is about? Last night?"

Spock kept walking. McCoy shot out a hand to grasp Spock's shoulder, but he anticipated the movement through the bond and stepped just out of reach. The Vulcan turned, face perfectly stoic but eyes boiling. McCoy lost all ability to speak.

The two walked in silence for almost two hours, each buried in their own thoughts. Spock noticed it had failed to grow lighter and looked up. Heavy clouds were spreading over the sky.

McCoy saw the clouds and indulged in a childhood behavior he had learned growing up in Georgia.

He went and stood under a tree.

Spock noticed this with a raised eyebrow. "Doctor, you are aware that standing under a tree actually increases your chances of being struck by lightning?" His voice was almost lost in the growing wind.

"Only if it's an electrical storm, Spock! Do you see lightning?"

"Regardless, I feel I should warn you." Spock joined McCoy under the thick branches and was pleased to see that the wind was less bothersome here.

"Why warn me? A minute ago, I thought you would have wanted to kill me yourself," McCoy said in a low voice. Only Spock's hearing allowed him to catch the mumbled comment.

Spock sighed internally. "Doctor...Leonard...while I admit your behavior is most illogical, I certainly do not wish you dead."

McCoy looked up, a small smile on his face. "Really?"

"Vulcans are pacifists."

McCoy groaned until he saw Spock's face. The corners of his mouth were turned up ever so slightly.

"I guess we camp here until the storm passes," McCoy said, circling. "Of course, that would mean finding a dry spot to sit."

"There is no such spot. Therefore, there is only one logical conclusion," Spock said.

Slowly, McCoy turned to face him. "And that would be..."

Five minutes later...

"Where again did you learn to climb trees, Spock?"

"I suspect it is a predisposition. I did not learn. I simply know."

"Ah."

McCoy leaned back, resting his head on Spock's chest. It had taken some clever maneuvering, but Spock had managed to find a comfortable resting area. He has insisted that they use this time to rest, so at the moment, a rather awkward McCoy was laying diagonally across Spock's body.

"So...come here often?" McCoy said, soothed into placidity by the heavy rain.

"No."

He rolled his eyes. "It's a line, Spock."

"A line?"

"Yes. Humans are famous for their fantastically awful pickup lines."

Spock frowned. "What is the purpose of these lines?"

"Well, it lets you strike up conversation with someone you hope to get to know better."

"Perhaps it would be more effective to find an area of common study," Spock said.

"Well, you can't just walk up to someone and ask about the latest advances in microsurgery...oh...I guess you would."

They were silent for a while, but it was a comfortable silence. Spock tightened his grip on McCoy slightly.

"You should get some rest, Leonard."

"I'm not tired," he retorted.

"You should be."

"Why's that?"

"You have been...running through my mind all day."

McCoy laughed so hard, he thought they would both tumble out of the tree.

"Well, I believe such strenuous activity would fatigue you."

"Just stop there, Spock," McCoy chuckled as he closed his eyes.

Spock was quiet for a moment.

"Does this mean I have picked you up?"

_Thanks for reading and again, apologies for the wait! As always, please review!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Heeeeeeeeeeeeere's backstory!_

_A Bitter Affair - Chapter Nine_

The beeps and hums, the soundtrack to the bridge that normally soothed James Kirk served only to irritate him today. He shifted awkwardly in his seat and waited.

"Still no response?" he asked.

"Nothing sir. They're receiving, but they aren't responding," Uhura replied.

"Damn," he said, resting his fist against his lips.

Two months since Bones and Spock had disappeared on this planet.

It had been a standard exploratory mission. The government on this planet had been handed over from anarchy to a structured, ritualized society. He, Spock and McCoy had beamed down to exchange ideas. Bones had been particularly excited since the medical technology there was so much more advanced than their own.

Spock had led the science wing of the information exchange. Though he would die before admitting it, he was as excited as McCoy to have the chance to enjoy such a rich culture. But when he hadn't reported in, Jim knew something was wrong.

Enterprise had tried to contact them and only static replied.

A garbled transmission from the surface of the planet two months ago...that was the last he had heard.

"Sir, Starfleet Headquarters is requesting you. Priority One."

"Ignore it," he said, hardly recognizing his own voice. He knew what they would say. The Enterprise was to return home to honor two fallen comrades, two of its finest.

He wouldn't, he couldn't believe they were dead until he saw the bodies. And until Starfleet came out here and wrenched the Enterprise from his hands, he would keep looking.

"Uhura, keep the comm open. I'm taking a team down personally."

"Sir, is that wise?" Scotty asked.

"I'm not sure, but I know I can't wait any longer. I'm talking to them in person."

"Sir, the last time you-"

"This won't be like last time!" he shouted, daring anyone to challenge him.

No one did.

"Get a team together. I want them to meet in the transporter room in five minutes. Bring arms," he snapped, already on his way.

Four and a half minutes later, a very stiff team was gathered in the transporter room, all carrying phasers.

"No," Kirk nodded in grim approval. "This won't be like last time at all."

They beamed down and Kirk immediately set out, trying to ignore the ghosts of McCoy and Spock that lingered here. He could imagine how they spent their week. McCoy would, in his spare time, have lain under that large tree telling anyone who would listen about the trees in Georgia.

Spock, on the other hand, would have been working and exploring, probably trying to minimize the amount of time he spent with McCoy.

Finally, he came upon the capital city of the Order, nestled firmly against a cliffside.

It was surprisingly easy to slip into a city used to martial law. A few surly looks here and there and the curious bystanders quickly shut their doors.

"You!" Kirk said, grabbing a man by the collar and pushing him up against a wall. "Where is Dieb?"

"I don't know! He moves around," the man replied, his voice shaking.

"Well tell me where you saw him last or you won't be moving," Kirk snapped.

"The palace on the hill. That's his favorite place."

With a grunt of acknowledgment, Kirk threw the man to the ground and left, his guards close behind him.

A heavy bribe was all that was needed to get inside the palace doors. Kirk smiled grimly.

"Get me Dieb," he said, gesturing to one of the bought guards. The alien nodded and left, returning a few minutes later with a tall man.

"Dieb!" Kirk said, spreading his arms wide. "How are you? It's been too long."

The man's eyes narrowed. "I assume there is a reason you are here? I thought our last encounter would have made my feelings perfectly clear."

Kirk chuckled, trying not to remember the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of this liar.

"I'm a tough study," he said, flipping his phaser rifle in his grip. "Hold him."

The guards obliged, pinning the man's arms behind him.

"Last time I was here, you told me my people were dead," Kirk said, pacing. "Now I've scanned your planet. Everything seems to point towards them being dead."

Dieb smiled smugly.

"Except a few days ago, we detected a Vulcan lifesign."

"Your sensors must have been mistaken."

Kirk swung the phaser rifle around. It connected with Dieb's jaw with a crack.

"Do I need to repeat what you told me? 'It was most unfortunate. They were killed by the Bringers. But they will not have died in vain!' Do you remember saying that, Dieb?"

Kirk felt a few beads of sweat begin to slide down his back.

"You told us these Bringers were rebels that deserved to die for their crimes and I believed you. We helped you fight. We gave you weapons. We fought your war for you. We did exactly what you wanted."

Dieb chuckled.

"But you lied to us. You saw our ship. You saw our weapons, our technology. You saw in us a way to end your troubles. So you kidnaped my officers."

"And it worked. The Bringers are under control."

It was Kirk's turn to laugh. "That's where you're wrong. I've met with their leaders. We discussed and signed a treaty. You are now our common enemy."

Dieb paled slightly.

"Now you can tell me where my men are and you'll only be charged with perjury. If you don't , then I'll kill you."

"I don't know where they are. We marked them with sensors, but I don't keep up with their locations."

"You have the means to get their exact location?"

"In my desk. It's a small, round scanner."

Kirk nodded at a guard, who found the device and brought it to him.

"Thank you, Dieb."

"You'll let me go now?" the man asked hopefully.

"Dieb, you've taught me a lot. Foremost among those lessons is how to lie," Kirk replied, his grin almost predatory.

"Do what you want with him, then return to the ship," Kirk said, opening his communicator and requesting transport. The device would need modifications in order to scan the whole planet and, having escalated a war, Kirk didn't have any time to spare.

_Woo! Crazy-Kirk is nuts! Hope you enjoyed. This story will be winding down now. Thanks for reading!_


	10. Chapter 10

_That's right! I'm back! Behold the beginning of the end of this story! Thank you all for your constant reviews and support!_

_A Bitter Affair  
Chapter Ten_

"Wake up, Doctor."

McCoy grumbled under his breath and turned away from Spock's voice.

"Doctor, it would be unwise to continue your path of motion as we are still suspended-"

McCoy's eyes shot open as he rolled out of Spock's grasp and collided with the ground.

"In the tree," Spock finished.

"You smug bastard," McCoy gasped, the wind knocked out of him by the fall.

"Doctor, you only fell 4.62 feet. Seeing as you landed on your posterior, you should be fine."

McCoy sat up, still gasping for air. "Spock, that's a fine way to complement a man on his ass."

Spock raised an eyebrow and elegantly slid out of the tree like some predatory cat. He had barely touched ground before he hoisted McCoy to his feet and propped him up against the tree.

"How are you feeling now, Doctor?" he said, leaning in to examine him. He raised a finger in front of his eyes.

"Fine. Humiliated, but fine," McCoy said, focusing his eyes on Spock's finger. "Your treeside manner is surprisingly good. I'm gonna be a little stiff for a while though."

Spock leaned in further, running his lips down McCoy's neck. "And now?"

McCoy gasped as Spock's teeth set to nibbling the sensitive skin by his ear. "Definitely gonna be stiff for a while now."

Spock's hand was warm, almost hot, as it slid down his chest, pausing to explore his front before moving to his back. McCoy gasped again, this time in pain, as Spock's hand closed on his ass.

"A little sore, Spock," McCoy said, staring into Spock's dark eyes. He was astonished to see a smirk on Spock's lips.

"Yes, you will be," Spock replied huskily, letting down the barriers on the bond so that McCoy could feel the urgency that he felt. Not pausing to give him a chance to change his mind, Spock pressed McCoy against the tree and kissed him.

McCoy kissed back, grabbing two fistfuls of Spock's hair and pulling him in as close as he could. He groaned as he felt Spock's erection brush his own.

"Leonard," Spock growled. "Let me in."

McCoy snickered. "Not by the hair on your chinny chin chin."

Spock pulled back. "I have no hair on my chin as I shaved before we left."

"I know, Spock. Come here."

Spock resisted as McCoy tried to pull him close.

"Would you prefer me with facial hair, Leonard?"

McCoy paused as he remembered the way Mirror Spock's goatee made him look. He shivered, remembering the searing gaze of possession and superiority that the other Spock had used to pin him against the wall. He had never thought he would see such longing from his Spock in this lifetime.

"We'll discuss it," he said, pulling Spock into an embrace.

They broke apart as weapons fire collided with the ground close to their feet. Spock's hand guided McCoy behind a tree while he provided cover fire.

"On my count, be ready to run," Spock said, his voice tight with anxiety. McCoy found it fascinating that he had not been able to hear the subtle changes in Spock's voice and demeanor before the bond.

"Pardon me, Spock, but I'm going to need a second to cool off. I can't just go from raring to jump in bed to running for my life."

Spock's eyebrow made its customary climb up his forehead. "A brief recovery would be beneficial to me as well."

Before he could jump from behind the tree to fend off the incoming Order members, the air around them filled with phaser fire.

"Spock," McCoy said slowly. "That's Starfleet phaser fire."

Spock nodded mutely in agreement. Both men were unwilling to openly voice what they were both hoping – that the phasers belonged to Starfleet members and that among those Starfleet members was Jim. Who else would be in possession of Federation weapons?

Finally the firing stopped and McCoy heard voices yelling the all clear. He ran from behind the tree, ignoring the mental protest that Spock shot down the bond.

"Jim!!" he yelled, waving his arms. Three figures stepped out from behind their hiding places and scrambled down a leaf-covered hill to meet him.

McCoy felt pure joy surging through him. They were rescued. He could shower. He'd have his job back.

He could shower!

The cold phaser point that pressed against his stomach scattered the visions McCoy was having.

"You are Leonard McCoy. The one behind the tree is Spock?" said the tall, dark man.

Spock stepped out from behind the tree.

"Obviously, since we are the only two off-worlders on your planet," Spock replied.

"I'm not sure if you remember me. My name is Dieb," the man said, the extra fold of skin around his ears fluttering with excitement.

"You're members of the Order," McCoy said, feeling his stomach clench in fear and frustration.

"And you are now my prisoners."


	11. Chapter 11

_Oooh you are gonna hate me._

/Wake up, Doctor/

McCoy gasped as he felt Spock's mind brush his. He had not answered to any of McCoy's mental pleas and he could only assume that Spock was undergoing another torture session.

/Spock/

/Leonard/

Though McCoy could not hear the pain in Spock's voice, he could sense it through the link that connected their minds. They had not seen each other for four days as Dieb deemed it too dangerous for them to stay in the same cell. So McCoy had barely slept for four days, waiting and straining his mind until he felt the comforting whisper of Spock's thoughts against his.

/Was this one as bad as the others?/

/Worse/

The worst part was that Dieb seemed to be torturing Spock for entertainment, not for the purpose of extracting information.

McCoy sat up as he heard footsteps padding the dry earth that led to his holding cell. He winced as the rusty door was shoved open, its protests absorbed by the stone and dirt lodging. A hand grasped his arm and dragged him into the bright hall.

Unaccustomed to the blinding light, McCoy could not focus his eyes until he was pushed into a darkened room. He almost slipped on the wet floor as he was guided to a chair.

He frowned. They were above ground and it hadn't rained since their capture four days ago.

McCoy froze in horror when he realized the pool of liquid was blood.

Green blood.

"Spock."

"Yes," Dieb said, striding into the room. "Spock. You two seem quite close. Bring him in."

McCoy's heart stopped as Spock was dragged in. The normally tall, proud Vulcan had to be held up by two of Dieb's guards. His face was swollen almost beyond recognition and he seemed unable to stand upright.

McCoy noticed his hands were clumsily bandaged by strips of his uniform and judging by the amount of blood that had seeped through the cloth, he was missing fingers.

"I thought I'd get revenge on that damn captain of yours by torturing you in order to extract information about your ship," Dieb began. "But since there's no way Kirk will know what I'm doing to you, I thought I'd kill one of you instead. The other one will be forced to stay here with me until I've determined otherwise. The question is, do I kill the scientist or the medic?"

"Technically, we're both scientists," McCoy quipped and was rewarded with a slap across the face from one of Dieb's guards.

"Very funny," Dieb snarled. "One of you is going to die. Choose."

"Kill me," Spock and McCoy said at the same time.

"Leonard," Spock said, pleading with his eyes. "I am already dead. The amount of blood I have lost–you of all people must know that."

"Like hell," McCoy growled. "Enter a trance. Slow your heart rate. Just don't die."

Dieb's eyes widened. "Interesting. Male lovers. I have heard of such a perversion, but I have never seen it."

Spock's eyes narrowed. "It is not a perversion," he hissed, his voice thick with pain. "Say any more and I will kill you where you stand."

"You really think you could? Then I would kill your friend here and then who would save you?"

Despite the obvious effort it took, Spock lifted his head. "Jim," he said, a faint chuckle emanating from his throat.

"What?" Dieb asked.

"Jim."

At that moment, a section of the wall furthest from them collapsed and in swarmed what seemed like dozens of Starfleet security officers. The two guards were shot immediately. Spock, lacking enough strength to stand on his own, collapsed to his knees.

"You!" Dieb snarled.

"Me," Jim replied, stepping over the guards, his phaser leveled at Dieb's chest. "Bones. Spock. Good to see you."

"Jim, your timing is no less than godly," McCoy chuckled.

"This isn't over!" Dieb yelled.

"Yes it is," Jim laughed.

"No, it's not." Dieb drew a blade from his sleeve and drove it deep into Spock's throat. Jim shot it, but the damage was already done.

To McCoy, the yells of the security officers as they called for an emergency medical beam out seemed muffled by the rush of blood in his head. He could feel the knife. He could feel the hiss of air that escaped Spock's throat from the hole the knife had left. And he could feel the rush of blood that was pushed out with every heartbeat.

/Leonard/

Spock's eyes focused on his and he fell backward, green blood staining the dirt.

"Where's that goddamn transport?" Jim bellowed.

McCoy was frozen. "Spock," he whispered.

Spock's eyes closed and McCoy felt his end of the bond go silent. Not the silent of repression, but a kind of void that threatened to pull McCoy in with it.

Even as McCoy's body dissolved into energy for transport, he felt something in his mind shatter.

Spock was dead.


	12. Chapter 12

_Something inside McCoy's mind snapped..._

_A Bitter Affair_

_Chapter Twelve_

McCoy was shaking as he rematerialized in the Enterprise's transporter room.

"Wake up, Leonard," he whispered, his voice shaking.

"Bones. He's dead," Jim said, patting the kneeling man on the shoulder.

McCoy said nothing.

"We'll have a nurse conduct the autopsy."

"No."

"Bones, you're in no shape to-"

"Jim." The normally gruff doctor looked up at the captain with watery blue eyes. "I have to do this."

Fifteen minutes later, McCoy was scrubbed up and staring at Spock's lifeless body.

"Doctor? We're ready to begin," said a nurse.

McCoy didn't break his gaze.

"Doctor?"

"I'm ready to begin," he said finally. "The rest of you, get out."

"Sir?"

McCoy's glance in her direction was so full of pain that she immediately gathered the rest of sickbay crew and left.

It was still inside the sickbay. Slowly, McCoy picked up a laser scalpel and immediately his stomach churned.

Broken, he fell backward into a chair.

"Spock," he bleated.

There was, of course, no reply.

"Spock, something's wrong," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You're supposed to outlive me."

He gazed at Spock's neck. The hole had stopped bleeding, but his clothes were soaked with green blood. His hands were still wrapped tightly with strips of his uniform.

"You lost your fingers, Spock," McCoy whispered, rising and taking Spock's bandaged hand in his own. "S'okay. We can grow new ones. We'll get you some new fingers. That way, you can keep making that Vulcan salute."

Choking back a mixture of laughter and sobs, he slowly unwrapped the unmoving hand. In a bit of selective irony, Spock's index and ring fingers were missing.

"Now Spock, that's no way to treat your doctor," McCoy said, shaking his firmly-attached finger at Spock. He unwrapped the other hand.

"Spock, you saved your fingers for me. You're so smart. You knew that it would take a week to grow new ones."

Quietly, he worked.

"Now you're whole again," McCoy whispered.

He picked up the laser scalpel again and twirled it in his hand.

"Now I have to do the autopsy."

McCoy frowned as his mind searched for the sequence of events he had unfortunately performed many times.

"Spock, I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Where do I begin?"

McCoy strained his mind.

"This is because of the bond, isn't it? You said I could go insane if you died."

He leaned over Spock's body until he was almost nose to nose with him.

"Well Spock, you're dead. So I guess I'm crazy."

Tenderly, McCoy traced the lines of Spock's face. The skin was pale, since the usual green tint provided by his blood had been soaked by the thirsty ground.

"You're cold, Spock," he whispered, pressing his lips to the still ones.

"We've barely kissed, you know that?" he asked, placing his forehead against Spock's. "We were so busy fighting."

He lay his head on Spock's chest, hoping to hear a heartbeat.

"Half the time, I let you win, you pointy-eared hobgoblin. You were smart though. It's why I love you."

Sobbing, he buried his face in Spock's chest, seeking comfort in the familiar smell of his skin and the sensation of Spock's shirt rubbing against his face.

"I should have died too. I'm no good without you, Spock."

"That is incorrect, Leonard," came a faint voice. "You are...most satisfactory."

McCoy froze. Spock was dead. He was not supposed to be talking to him.

He wasn't supposed to be looking at him with pain-filled eyes either.

"I really am crazy."

"You are not crazy. However, I am still dying."

McCoy bolted upright. "You need blood!"

He slammed his fist on the communications panel. "Medical team, get to sickbay!"

**Bridge**

Jim sat up in his chair. There was only one reason McCoy would have called for a medic.

_Only the epilogue left! _


	13. Epilogue

_Here's the end, folks! Thanks for all of you who stuck with this story through sporadic updates and for those who just recently picked it up. I hope to see you again!_

_A Bitter Affair - Epilogue_

"Spock?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I know."

McCoy shuffled expectantly. (A/n: I sort of imagine this as him scuttling side to side like Zoidburg)

"Spock?"

"Yes?"

"You could say it back."

"I know."

McCoy arched an eyebrow at the Vulcan laying on his bed.

"Spock!" he whined.

"Why do humans require constant reinforcement of their relationships?"

McCoy sighed as he sat on the bed. "Because when there's a traumatic event," he said, poking Spock in the chest, "we like to know *poke* that our loved ones *poke* are still important *poke* and that they know we care *poke poke poke* when they die."

Spock looked at McCoy and raised an eyebrow.

"I was not dead, Leonard. As I have told you on numerous occasions , the trance I entered was begun without adequate preparations. As a result, I was unable to control the abrupt suppression of the bond."

"You looked dead," McCoy said, pouting slightly.

"It was highly dangerous," Spock agreed. "Had you not given me the transfusion I needed, I would have died. You saved my life, Leonard. What more could you want me to say?"

McCoy scoffed. "I have saved lots of lives. Doesn't mean I want them all in love with me."

Spock sighed. "I also listened to your advice. You instructed me to enter a trance and I did so."

"And it nearly killed you!"

"Taking your advice often risks that particular consequence," Spock admitted.

McCoy turned so that he lay next to Spock.

"That is not what you wished to hear?"

"No."

Spock rolled onto his side and cupped Leonard's face.

"Is it enough to know that the minutes I spent away from our bond were the most miserable of my life?"

McCoy shifted, simultaneously pleased and embarrassed.

"Now you look uncomfortable," Spock said, tilting his head to the side. "When I don't praise you, you are angry. When I do praise you, you are embarrassed."

McCoy nudged him. "Keep praising."

"You have a spark of curiosity that I find most...fascinating," Spock said, slowly running his lips up Leonard's neck.

McCoy reddened. Spock's catchphrase would never be the same again.

"And I do love you," Spock added.

McCoy grinned. "I knew it!"

"You should sleep, doctor. You have not slept in quite some time."

"I'm not tired."

"Yes you are."

"Don't try that Vulcan voodoo on me. I'm...not..."

The corner of Spock's mouth turned up as he watched McCoy sleep.

"Sleep well, Leonard," he said, dimming the lights. Turning so that his body was pressed up against his sleeping lover's, Spock placed his lips against the back of his neck and sighed. He felt a remarkable peace settle over him as he drifted off to sleep.

"I will be here when you wake up."

_Fin_


End file.
